


Hiraeth

by meikari



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alivebur, Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Ghostbur, Other, Post-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Vilbur, ghostbur fucking dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:28:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28693971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meikari/pseuds/meikari
Summary: Ghostbur and Wilbur finally get to have a talk.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 78





	Hiraeth

The world went dark.

Complete pain engulfed Ghostbur’s entire body. All of a sudden, he felt like he was falling. He tried to scream, but nothing came out. He squeezed his eyes shut as to distract himself from the ache, but it was to no avail. His ears began to ring. A few heartbeats of pain went by, but to Ghostbur, it felt like hours. And out of nowhere, it all seemed to stop.

Ghostbur pried his eyes open and blinked himself into reality. His head still felt fuzzy, and his vision was taking a while to settle itself onto the vast expanse of nothingness in front of him. Nausea crept from his head to his stomach as he tried to take in a breath. The breath cut itself short in his throat. Despite him knowing his ghostly circumstance would prevent this, he felt a little broken.

The ghost steadied himself in his spot as his surroundings seeped into his sights. The room in which he stood appeared to be infinitely expanding; all he could see was blank spaces and white dots. He shook his head in fear, as if to attempt to convince himself this wasn’t real, but to no avail. 

“Who are _you?”_ a familiar voice called from behind him. 

Ghostbur spun around to meet the figure. There, stood a man just about his height. He appeared exhausted, or maybe just angry - Ghostbur couldn’t tell. His hair was fluffy and brown, and he wore a bloodstained white shirt and brown coat that Ghostbur hated the familiarity of. The two stood in surprise for one another for a good moment, in complete silence, before Ghostbur took his chance to speak.

“I think I’m you.” In his voice, there was a hint of pain and confusion.

“Oh, lovely, that explains it.” He began to pace the empty room as he spewed this sarcastic remark. Ghostbur followed with his eyes.

“No, no, I saw you,” Ghostbur insisted, “in the history books. Pictures of you.”

“Of course you did, of course they…” The man stopped himself mid-sentence and focused his attention on the other. “How did you get here? You’re supposed to be up there. Pretending to be me.”

“Well, I was going to ask the same of you!” Ghostbur piped up cheerfully. “So you’re Alivebur? That’s what Dad calls you.”

“I’m _Wilbur_ ,” he said with assertion, “Alivebur is an… an inaccurate name. You’re not me.” He adjusted his standing position. “And call him Phil, would you?”

Ghostbur blinked and didn’t bother to reply. He let the cold air he held escape from his chest, and glanced at Wilbur solemnly. “Why are we here? What is this?”

“The afterlife.” Wilbur cocked his head. “I’ve been here for months. You get used to it.”

“I’m not supposed to be here,” Ghostbur’s sorrowful gaze turned into one of intense worry as he cried out this phrase. “I’m not supposed to be here!”

“Calm down, christ,” Wilbur put his hands up a bit to stop him. “They probably made a mistake. You’ll be back up there in a moment. Me, however…” He let his voice trail off and he pressed his lips together as to hold back the words. 

Despite thinking he could trust Wilbur, Ghostbur doubted his promise that he’d be home soon. He sat down on the floor and pouted to himself. Silence filled the room limitlessly. Only a few moments went by before Ghostbur felt obligated to break the hush. “Can you tell me about yourself? About Alivebur?”

“Alivebur?” Wilbur placed his hands in his jacket pockets and turned away. “There are a lot of things we share and a lot we don’t. The history books are never correct. You’ll learn to know that eventually.”

Ghostbur listened intently.

“The difference between us is that he’s painted as a villain. They won’t tell you the true side of the story - _my_ side of the story. And yet, there are people who still love this Alivebur character. You’d think this would change something.” He gazed at Ghostbur for a moment, then flipped back around. “I did what I had to do.”

Ghostbur pulled at his sweater collar and looked to the side. “They wouldn’t hurt us like that…”

“ _You._ They wouldn’t hurt _you_ like that. They don’t care about me.” Wilbur rubbed the back of his hand over his nose and huffed. “They’ll tell you they did, too. They didn’t.”

The ghost was lost for words. He tried his best to form a coherent sentence, but he didn’t let anything come out. He closed his eyes for a moment to think. Finally, he was able to speak, and he pushed out the first thing that came to mind. “What do you want, then?”

Wilbur raised his eyebrows quickly in surprise. He maneuvered himself slowly to face Ghostbur. His head was dipped, immersed in thought, for what had to have been a few minutes. His expression became more sorrowful in the moments before he spoke.

“To not feel cold.”

**Author's Note:**

> hi :)
> 
> i know ghostbur saw 2 figures when he died, i just thought it would be cooler if he saw alivebur!
> 
> anyways this was a very very short one but any and all nice comments or kudos are massively appreciated
> 
> i love u


End file.
